Been There, Done That
by WolvesInBoundary
Summary: When Alec discovers his boyfriend of two years has been cheating on him, he's heartbroken. Then comes along the famous singer, Magnus Bane, who is determined to change that. Alec is wary, not wanting to fall back into the same kind relationship he's just gotten out of. Will Magnus be able to change that? AU/AH Rating subject to change.
1. Prologue

**_Hey guys, here's a new story :) You voted for this one the most, so here it is and I'm really excited about it too. The poll's still on my profile so go vote for the one you want after this. It'll be a while, but eventually I'll start another. This chapter's not very long, though it isn't all that short, but it's the prologue. It's not supposed to be... At least that's what I'm going with :P_****_Updates for this story will be a post as I go kind of thing. I'm going to try for one,_ maybe _two chapters a week but yeah, no promises. They'll go up whenever I'm done writing them, rather than just having one every Saturday like with my other story, And We Fall. That story is my baby, and therefore my main focus. This one comes second._**

**_I don't know what genre to classify this as right now; Drama? Hurt/Comfort? Humour? If you have any idea, please help me out :) Also, the rating will probably move up to M but I honestly don't know yet._**

**_Enjoy! And don't forget to follow, favourite and review XD_**

* * *

_Prologue_

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The first time they meet is purely by chance. There's no fate playing with them, no destiny intertwining them; not even a friend pushing them together. It's just Alec, Magnus and a fair bit of good timing. Well, and a badly thrown football but that's beside the point. The _point_ is, there's nothing that forces them together, it simply just happens.

To be honest, there's not even anything overly spectacular about the day they meet, it's an average, sunny day in New York like any other and the park is packed full of people wanting to enjoy it. Magnus, honestly, is just trying to avoid the paparazzi by coming here, knowing it's not a place they'd expect him to be. He's not really the outdoorsy type and it shows. Very obviously, if the nine-inch heels and sequined leather jacket he's got on have anything to say for it. They aren't the kind of thing one wears outside, in a park, on a beautiful sunny day.

So naturally, considering parks aren't his thing, Magnus is quite distracted as he shuffles down the stone path surrounded by lush green fields and lined with well-kept wooden benches. He actually probably wouldn't find it to be such an awful place to spend the day if he were paying any attention to it at all. But, well, he's not. Instead, he's got his eyes glued to his bright purple phone, only glancing up to look over his shoulder every few minutes to make sure he isn't being followed. He's been needing to get away from the hassle of being a successful singer signed to a label with high-expectations for his work habits, for a long time. Work habits, which he has none of.

In fact, Magnus would consider himself the king of _bad_ work habits. Apparently, it's not good to just work when inspiration strikes him or simply when he feels like it. It goes without saying then that the people at his record label tend to think he procrastinates far too much and seem to believe it's going to come back to bite him in the ass one day. Magnus, however, prefers to not think of it as procrastinating, so much, and rather as… Putting it off for a better time? Yes, that's it.

Unfortunately for the label, though fortunately for him, they can't exactly complain about him, ever, because he does still produce results— and good ones at that. Magnus is by far their most valued contractee, dragging in heaps of money and recognition for them every month. Magnus, however, hasn't ever really cared about that in the end, though it is nice to be rich. He's always been more taken with the simple knowledge that others seem to enjoy his music as much as he does. He loves being able to share his passion with the world , and have such an amazing response to it.

That doesn't mean he doesn't take advantage of his fame though, what with the hundred and one "relationships" he's had so far thanks to it. He can hardly even call them that, considering the most long-lasting one he'd had in the past five or six years had been for little more than two weeks. Magnus is good at that, at casual flings for sex and fun so he doesn't get bored or too unbearably horny with no way to release his sexual frustration. He's good at the not caring, the not putting too much into the relationship, and the cutting all ties the second the other person even hints at something slightly more serious.

Unfortunately, being so caught up in his own little world and the shiny device in his hands, Magnus doesn't see the football come flying towards him until it's too late. It rams into his shoulder hard, knocking him off balance and sending the glittery phone flying out of his hands onto the stone-covered ground beside him. What follows is the sound of plastic snapping into pieces. He falls flat on his ass, completely disoriented and confused as to what on _earth _just happened. Rubbing at his sore shoulder, he glances over to where his phone lay shattered. He winces, knowing he's going to have to replace it. For the third time this month. His manager's going to be _pissed_.

It's then that Magnus catches sight of what hit him, a worn football covered in dirt lying off to his right like a guilty weapon of destruction. Magnus glares at it as he pushes himself to his feet and brushes the dirt off of his shiny leather pants. He scowls when he notes a tiny mark on the back of them. Dammit, they were _new_ too. Magnus leans down to pick up both his ruined phone and the stupid, horrible football that ruined everything, though he knows he'll never be able to get all of the pieces of his phone. He's pretty sure there's over a thousand lying scattered on the path.

Magnus almost falls right back over when he straightens up to find a sweaty, _hot_ boy standing in front of him. He hadn't heard him approach, granted he was a little busy insulting a ball. And he's not known for paying much attention to things that don't concern him so really it's nothing new that he's missed this. Magnus finds himself trying not to swoon though, as he takes in the boy's full appearance; a mess of dark hair, stunning blue eyes, _muscles_, a ruffled, sweaty t-shirt covered in grass stains. Magnus will blame his blush on the heat, if ever asked.

"Hey," the boy says, grinning at him lopsidedly. Magnus reminds himself again that swooning would be inappropriate and instead flashes him a grin of his own.

"Hey," he replies, amused and maybe a little flirtatious. How can he not flirt with someone so attractive?

"Can I have that back?" the hottie asks, gesturing to the football in Magnus' hands. He glances down at it in a brief moment of confusion, having forgotten it was there, before he looks back up into those incredible blue eyes. He tries not to get lost in them.

"You have awful aim," Magnus informs him teasingly as he hands it to him. The boy laughs, a musical sound that once again has Magnus feeling like he's going to swoon. Instead he just smiles as the football is pulled out of his hands to be twirled around in those of the blue-eyed boy.

"Actually, it was Simon who threw that. I told Jace we shouldn't let him play, that he'd be sure to hurt someone. I was right," says the hot guy, with a brilliant smile. It's the type of smile Magnus has never really seen before what with the kind of life he leads; open and honest and real and bright. It's gorgeous, much like the person to whom it belongs.

"Maybe now this Jace will reconsider," Magnus says with a chuckle. The boy's smile gets even brighter, a feat Magnus hadn't deemed possible, as he twists the football in his hands. He tries not to watch his long, nimble fingers too carefully.

"I doubt it, he's our sister's boyfriend. We're required to include him, no matter the cost to anyone's health apparently." The beautiful boy pauses here, as if just realizing something. "I'm Alec, by the way," he says, shifting the football to one hand so he can stretch out the other for Magnus to shake. Magnus thinks the name is probably short for something, most likely Alexander, but decides there's no point in asking.

"Magnus," he offers as he takes Alec's hand. It's warm and soft and sure and _no_. No swooning. None. At all. Not even a little. They swoon over you, Magnus, not the other way around.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Magnus. I should probably be heading back before they think I've been murdered in revenge for Simon hitting someone," Alec says with another light laugh as he glances over his shoulder in the direction he probably came from. Magnus is mildly surprised Alec hadn't said anything about his name, being that he's famous and the name isn't exactly common. Then again, Alec doesn't seem like the kind of person to really pay attention to pop culture all that much, granted Magnus doesn't know him all that well either.

"Ah, yes. Probably best," Magnus says and then the smile shifts to a smirk as he continues. "Though, perhaps I should give you my number. Just in case." He watches as Alec shakes his head at him, still smiling.

"Very subtle," he says with the same stupidly attractive lopsided grin as before. "I have a boyfriend, though." Magnus is disappointed for a split second, though at least now there's no doubt in which way Alec swings, before he gives the ridiculously hot guy in front of him a fake pout that soon shifts to smirk as he scrawls his number across the other boy's arm anyways with the pen he keeps in his pocket for autograph signing. He's used to running into insane fans who will stalk him to the ends of the earth to get his signature.

"Well should that little situation change, give me a call. Actually, call me anyways, maybe I'll be able to convince you to change it soon," Magnus says, dropping Alec a wink. Alec shakes his head at him again and then gives him one last smile before running off down the field to his friends, football in hand. If Magnus' eyes openly linger on his ass, well then so what. He can do what he wants.

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_**Follow, favourite and review for the next chapter :)**_


	2. Carry On

**_Hey! Another chapter! Don't know how I feel about the second part of it, but I hope you guys enjoy it :) I've been having trouble naming the two characters in this chapter, so if you have any ideas let me know; even though the second's already got a name I think I might change who it is. Any input on this story is very welcome :)_**

**_Also, I now have new tumblr. My URL's the same as it is here (wolvesinboundary) so go check it out! I'll be posting news about my writing (when I'll be updating, questions for you guys and other things like that) as well as just random things I like, mostly about TMI. Don't be afraid to follow me! I don't bite, promise :)_**

**_Anyways, follow, favourite and review to let me know how you liked it XD_**

* * *

_Chapter One - Carry On_

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"You need to start writing again, Magnus! This is getting ridiculous! It's been months since your last single and you haven't written one goddamned word since. I don't see what the issue is here, Magnus. You've never had a problem before, so why now?" Magnus rolls his eyes at his manager and leans further back into the furry hot pink chair he's been perched on for the last twenty minutes as the man across from him tried to get his point across. He ought to know Magnus isn't even listening. Examining his nails, he pouts at them for a second. Dammit, one of them's chipped. Now he'll have to re-do them all when his annoying ass of a manager finally gives up and leaves him the hell alone already.

"Are you done?" Magnus asks, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the man currently fuming in the lime green chair across from him. It only serves to further anger his manager, to the point where Magnus almost thinks he can see a few tendrils of steam coming from him before he explodes on him again. Really, he should have realized it's all just going in one ear and out the other by now.

"No, I'm not _done_ because you haven't listened to a word I've said! We need another song, Magnus! So go fucking write one," he says and Magnus is reminded of an angry little chihuahua barking away so hard its whole body is shaking with the force of it. Also, there's the fact that Magnus wouldn't listen to either; the dog or the man.

"_Now _are you done?" he asks, pulling his eyes away from his completely devastating nails. He gives his manager, who's thrown both his arms into the air and is now looking up at the ceiling like he's praying to some higher being, an expectant look.

"NO!" he yells, ignoring the fact that Magnus' downstairs neighbours can probably hear him. All well, it's their fault for choosing to move into the same building as a famous pop-star with an easily angered manager. They should have really known better.

Magnus groans and pulls his feet off the dark, wooden coffee table between them. He leans his body forwards to rest his arms on his knees as Magnus pins the man with a sharp look. He seems to deflate under it, sinking back into the chair he'd launched out of during his yelling session. It's a sudden change in demeanor on his part, but Magnus is used to having that effect on people.

"First off, you're giving me a headache. Stop yelling. Second, I don't write for anyone but myself and therefore _I _decide when I'm going to write a new song. I don't know why you care so much, it's not like you're short on money or anything. Also, that chair costs more than you do, don't throw yourself into it so violently or you'll be paying to replace it," he says and watches the colour drain out of his manager's face. Good, he should be scared. Serves him right.

"Sorry?" he offers, wincing slightly away from Magnus, who leans back into his chair with a satisfied expression. He knows he's an awful person to deal with for anyone associated with the record label, mainly because he tends to just say _fuck you_ to all of them and do his own thing. That's probably why this is the fourth manager he's had this year and it's only April. Granted, so far this one has lasted longer than the other three before him.

Honestly, if he could, Magnus would just abandon the record label completely and be his own manager. Then at least he wouldn't have to deal with such annoying people giving him an endless amount of awful headaches. He _could_ do it— produce his own stuff— if he could get all of the equipment and a place to put it, as well as find someone to do the recording portion of everything for him. Magnus might be good with technology, like his cellphone for instance, but he isn't good with _that _kind of equipment. Way too many buttons and switches and knobs for him to handle without blowing his brains out. Or blowing the machine up. Whichever comes first.

Unfortunately, the fact that he can't figure out how to get any of that stuff means that he's stuck with the record label he's currently contracted to. And _that_ means dealing with all these annoying as fuck people that he really just wants to screw off and leave him the hell alone. At least he can dream.

Magnus sighs, propping his elbow up on the arm of his chair and resting his head against his hand. He rakes his eyes up and down the man in front of him's body slowly, taking in his ruffled appearance. There's bags under the poor sap's eyes, his hair showing how desperately he needs a shower, and his outfit— Oh God. Did he get dressed _blind _this morning? It's horrendous, really. Who could wear that out in public?

Naturally, his train of thought then takes a sharp turn to gorgeous blue eyes and messy black hair. His mind strays to toned muscles under a white t-shirt, practically see-through with sweat. Oh wow, he'd been hot. What had his name been, again? Adam? Alan? Ah yes, Alec. Sexy, sexy Alec with those beautiful biceps and that _ass_ and— he should really stop before he gets a boner in front of his manager because while Magnus might be completely shameless, he doesn't want this annoying pest to think he's got the hots for _him._ He shivers at the very thought of it, effectively destroying any arousal he might have had from thoughts of that sexy guy he'd met in the park a week ago. The guy who still had yet to call him, sadly enough.

Apparently Magnus' gaze is squirm-inducing to his manager because he begins to shift awkwardly in his chair for a few minutes before eventually jerking to his feet. He starts to take a step closer to Magnus and then seems to think better of it and stops with his foot half-way off the ground. He drops it back down even more awkwardly than his squirming had been, eyes darting towards the mini hallway that leads to the front door.

"I'm uh— just gonna, yeah. So— write something and um, yep. Bye," his manager stutters out before turning on his heel and all but racing out the door. Magnus watches him go with a raised eyebrow and a satisfied smirk.

It really is great to be him.

* * *

Alec is riffling through the fridge half-heartedly for something to eat when the sound of keys jingling into the lock on the door to their apartment reaches him. He straightens up, leaning nonchalantly against the open fridge as the door slams open. He winces when it hits the wall but doesn't say anything. The wall's already cracked, it's not like it really matters.

When his boyfriend steps inside, pale hair sticking to his forehead from sweat and cheeks flushed from the heat, his eyes immediately find Alec standing beside him with a warm smile and Alec notices that he looks almost surprised. And… guilty? Why would he be feeling guilty? Alec frowns for a brief second and then realizes his boyfriend will probably notice so instead he smiles again, padding over to the other man and pecking him lightly on the lips.

"Hey, I thought you were working late today?" he says sweetly, the way he usually speaks when he's talking to his boyfriend, and watches the lips he'd just had pressed against his own contort as the other bites at them. He looks up into his boyfriend's dark green eyes only to find that he's not looking back at him; staring intently off at the wall beside them. It's odd behaviour for him and Alec frowns again, but chooses not to question it.

"Yeah, we got let off early," comes the shaky reply and it does nothing to aid Alec in brushing it all off as his imagination. He's getting worried now so he reaches up slowly to caress the side of the other's face and runs the pad of his thumb along his boyfriend's high cheekbones. He turns his face so he'll meet his eyes and gives him a look he hopes conveys his love for him. It's all he has to offer him at the moment, so he desperately hopes it's enough.

"Sebastian? Is something wrong?" Alec asks softly and watches the other man flinch in return. Alec's starting to feel like whatever this is is really bad, especially because it's not the first time he's been acting strange in the past while. He'd always brushed it off as stress at being called to work late so much more often recently but it's beginning to seem like more than that. It's also beginning to seem like it might have something to do with Alec himself, if the weird looks he's been getting and the avoiding he's been subject to are anything to go off of.

He tries not to let it get to him though, tries to think of the best case scenario and not even pause to consider the worst. Except, it's so hard not to. Because, while Alec might not be a pessimist, he _is_ a realist and he knows that, realistically speaking, this is bigger than just the stress from work. It hurts to think he might be the source of a problem for his boyfriend, whom he loves more than almost anything, and he's desperate now to know what that problem is so he can fix it. He'll stand here and beg Sebastian to tell him for the rest of his fucking life if that's what it takes to—

"No, Alec. Everything's fine. I love you," his boyfriend replies, a warm smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes gracing his face and Alec smiles back just as sweetly, leaning up to kiss him again; already starting to forget the odd behaviour. Everything's fine and his boyfriend loves him.

It's all okay.

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	3. Something I Need

**_What's that? An update? Is this real? Yes, it is. I have updated! I didn't edit this one very thoroughly though because I felt so bad about taking so long :( But basically me writing this chapter was like: I shall have witty dialogue and awesome humour and- Pshhh, what even is wit?_**

**_So sorry this took so long, but I'm giving a shout out to everyone who helped me decide what Alec's career should be. I went with what the majority of you voted for. Anyways, I really hope you like this chapter and don't hate me for taking so long with it :( Let me know what you think in a review?_**

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_Chapter Two - Something I Need_

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Magnus throws his pen and the newly-crumpled piece of paper across the room with a loud groan, wincing as they sail towards his flatscreen TV. It wobbles slightly as they make contact, but thankfully doesn't tip over and he lets out a small relieved sigh before turning back to the matter at hand. The song. Or, well, lack thereof.

For reasons Magnus can't seem to comprehend, he's been completely unable to write anything recently. He's never had this problem before; music has always been something that's come easily to him. If he's being honest, like he is on occasion, it's mildly terrifying that he can't get a single word, a single note even, out to start a song. Magnus starts to wonder if it's because he hasn't brought anyone back to the loft in a while, if it's just because he's sexually frustrated or something, but he shuts that idea down pretty quickly because he's not some horny teenager.

Except he totally is.

Groaning again, Magnus throws himself out of the chair he'd been slumped in and back onto his feet. He stretches his arms over his head and cracks his back before slouching over again as he glances over at the giant window taking up the entirety of one of his walls. He paces towards it slowly, a tanned hand coming up to rest on the glass when he reaches it. Magnus stares down at the lively city below, full of bright lights and good times, and wonders when he stopped being a part of it. He wonders when he stopped going out just for the fun of it, when he stopped doing the things he loved apart from music. He wonders when his music became the only thing for him, when it became everything for him. He wonders when it became his whole entire life.

Magnus is snapped suddenly out of his strange thoughts by a loud bass thumping out of his phone, the catchy strum of completely unoriginal guitar chords accompanying it. He pads over to the coffee table he'd left the device on while he was trying to write earlier and picks it up gingerly, bracing himself for his manager's name to scroll across the screen. Magnus is pleasantly surprised when it's an unknown caller instead; at least he is until he remembers the last time he picked up a call from someone he didn't know. Safe to say, it hadn't been his favourite moment ever.

He swipes the pick up button and presses the phone to his ear with a grimace in place on his gorgeous face. Honestly, it's no wonder he's on the cover of so many magazines. Magnus is most definitely one of the most attractive people on the planet.

"Yes?" he snaps into the phone harshly, hoping it'll ward off any crazy fan or paparazzi that might have found his number. The difficulty of having and keeping any form of privacy is one of the few cons to being a famous singer. Not that Magnus doesn't like the attention, he'd just prefer to keep a little mystery around himself.

"Oh, sorry is this a bad time?" Magnus frowns at the politeness in the voice and at the fact that it's clearly not some rabid fan or the paparazzi. That narrows the playing field quite a bit.

"Who is this?" he asks, his voice coming out minutely less harsh and annoyed as before. He's running through a mental list of everyone he knows who he doesn't have saved into his contacts, noting that the voice from the other end of the line sounded vaguely familiar.

"It's Alec, we met in the park a week ago? You gave me your number," says the other boy and a light bulb goes off in Magnus' brain as he remembers the hot, sweaty, _gorgeous _boy he'd met. How could he forget that amazing, sexy voice? Granted, it has been over a week and this is the first he's heard from him. Magnus tends to give up on new people after a mere few days.

"Alec, right! I remember, your friend hit me with the football," Magnus replies, a smirk working its way onto his face as his mind drifts off into the land of sweaty, clingy white t-shirts and muscles and blue eyes and brilliant grins and muscles and black hair and _muscles_. He really likes those muscles.

"Haha, yeah, that's the one. Sorry about that by the way, Jace finally agreed we'd never play any sports with Simon again, though, so luckily you'll be the only victim to Simon's lack of any skill whatsoever in that department," Alec replies and Magnus chuckles in return, a smirk still in place on his face.

"So, you calling because the boyfriend thing changed? Or so I can change it for you?" Magnus teases, recalling what he'd said to the other boy when he'd given him his number. He's definitely not praying Alec will say he's single now. Not at all.

Alec laughs, good-natured and gorgeous like everything else he's done so far and Magnus tries not to swoon again. Actually, no. Not again. There was no swooning in the first place. Ever. At all. Really.

"No, the boyfriend thing is still a thing," Alec replies, echoes of his laughter reverberating through his tone. Magnus attempts to keep from pouting too much, though he doesn't succeed in the slightest. So much for having a hot, fun fling with the sexy guy from the park. Magnus pauses then, an idea occurs to him. Maybe if he hangs out with the other boy under the pretense of simply wanting to be friends, he'll be able to slip into those gloriously fitted jeans of his easily, boyfriend or no boyfriend. Oh yes, Magnus is the master of plans.

"Ah, well, too bad. Perhaps I can convince you otherwise with a great cup of coffee? If you're free, that is," he says, mentally patting himself on the back for executing the first step in his plan so flawlessly. He deserves an award for this.

"I'm not so sure my boyfriend would appreciate me going out with someone trying to convince me to breakup with him," Alec jokes and Magnus can hear the smile on his face through the phone. "But I am free and it does get unbearably lonely being here in this cold, dark apartment all by myself," he adds after a moment and Magnus laughs in response, shifting his phone to the other hand when his left starts to tire.

"Well, if it'll make you feel better I won't start in on convincing you to fix the boyfriend thing until at _least _our second date," he teases in return, holding back a dreamy sigh at the chuckle he gets from down the line.

"Very reassuring, though it's not a date," is the response that comes, quickly followed by Magnus' dramatic exhale before he offers another joking reply as well. Conversation flows between them like water down the lake and Magnus finds he enjoys it quite a bit. It's fun and easy, something he's always been looking for, and he wonders if _this _is what he's been needing. If this is what will drag him out of his musical slump and back onto the charts and into the stadiums.

He hopes so, he's running low on ideas.

* * *

Magnus swipes his caramel-flavoured concoction off the counter, flashing the barista a wink as he heads towards the table with the clearest view of the door. He throws one of the chairs out an plops down in it dramatically, setting his drink on the table as he goes. Wouldn't want to go spilling it, now would we? That would simply be a waste of such heavenly perfection.

He finds himself humming his newest single under his breath as Magnus trains his eyes on the door. He gets his hopes up when it swings open a few minutes later, warm air blowing into the coffee shop, but they're quickly dashed when a middle-aged woman steps through rather than a sexy young man. God, Magnus can't wait to lay eyes on all of that yumminess. With those gorgeous blue eyes and that ruffled dark hair, like he'd just rolled out of bed or perhaps had been roll—

No, bad Magnus. You're just here to get to know the beautiful boy, not jump straight to the more… physical things. Because, unfortunately, they're not going to happen so long as that dreaded _boyfriend _is still in the picture. After all, Alec seems like the incredibly faithful kind of guy. In fact, Alec just seems like an incredibly nice guy in general. Magnus would almost go so far as to say that he's perfect, what with that grin and those muscles and— Oh God, not again.

Thankfully, Magnus is saved from his own thoughts by the sight of the coffee shop door swinging open at the hands of a dark-haired young man. He breathes out a sigh of relief at that; he'd been starting to think Alec might not be coming. Granted, he had shown up twenty minutes early. Still, that's completely beside the point.

Alec glances around the shop for a minute before those wondrous blue eyes find Magnus and a smile lights up his gorgeous face. He waves slightly, in that awkward two-fingered way that most guys do, and then moves towards the counter to order himself a drink. Magnus watches in silent admiration as he leans over it, muscles shifting under a tight black t-shirt. It also offers Magnus a rather good view of his backside, but that's definitely not what he's looking at. Of course not.

The same barista who'd handed Magnus his heavenly beverage slides a steaming cup across the counter to Alec. He smiles at her, that brilliant thing that makes Magnus' insides seem to melt, and accepts the drink with a warm thanks. Magnus watches with only a tiny pang of annoyance as she smiles after him with pink cheeks and moony eyes. He prides himself in only glaring at her a little bit for that. He grins at Alec as the boy slides into the chair across from him, setting the steaming cup of what smells like some kind of coffee on the table in front of him.

"Hey," Alec offers with a warm smile, blue eyes glistening in the mellow lighting of the shop.

"Hey sexy," Magnus replies, still grinning. His voice is light and full of a flirtatious tone that Alec just shakes his head at, laughing that musical sound that Magnus really shouldn't find so beautiful. Honestly, when did he start obsessing over one person's attractiveness? Alec has a boyfriend, anyways. He should really just let it go already and move on, it's not like there aren't a thousand other fish in the sea. But, then again, Magnus does need more friends. Actual friends who don't just hang around him for popularity or a chance at a career boost.

"Careful, Magnus. I'd almost think you're flirting with me," Alec teases, his smile turning more lopsided than before, more like the one he'd worn in the park.

"I am flirting with you," Magnus replies, wiggling his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his drink. It slides down his throat in a rush of sweet caramel and he almost moans. God, he loves this coffee shop. It's like a little slice out of heaven that hardly anyone knows about, therefore meaning he never runs into paparazzi here. Thank God for that too, otherwise him and Alec would have already been swarmed by them. It's one of the reasons that sometimes Magnus really hates being famous.

"You do realize that's entirely pointless, right?" Alec shakes his head at Magnus and takes a sip of his own drink, which smells about a million times less sugary than Magnus'.

"What _are _you drinking?" Magnus asks indignantly, making a face at the bitter-smelling drink in the other boy's hands. Alec raises an eyebrow at him and holds the drink up a little higher.

"It's called coffee," he says. "You might have heard of it before." Magnus scowls at him for a second, lip curling up in mild disgust.

"Is it black?" he asks dubiously, eyeing the cup warily as tendrils of steam continue to curl out of it. Alec snorts and puts the cup back down.

"What's wrong with that?" Alec asks, frowning over at Magnus as he swirls the drink in his hand.

"Everything," Magnus replies sharply, still eyeing the dark-haired boy's beverage of choice. "Black coffee is absolutely disgusting."

"That's a matter of opinion," Alec states with an easy laugh that most definitely does not take Magnus' breath away. "And I suppose whatever monstrosity you're drinking is _much _better?"

"Damn right, it is," Magnus responds with an eyebrow raised in indignation.

"Really? I'm pretty sure I can taste the sugar in it all the way from over here," Alec teases, leaning further forward to rest his elbows on the table between them. Magnus catches a faint whiff of his cologne and the immediately forces himself to focus on the conversation topic instead to avoid any… awkward situations.

"That's not the coffee," he retorts with a wiggle of his perfectly shaped eyebrows. "I'm just that sweet."

"Oh, but of course," Alec replies. "My bad."

"So sweet, in fact, that I'm even going to ask you on another date," Magnus states casually, watching as Alec's grins widens with more light laughter.

"How kind of you, though it's not a date," he says, repeating his earlier words from their conversation over the phone.

"Is that a yes, then?" Magnus asks, ignoring the last bit Alec had said. What's the point in listening to what you don't want to hear? Much better to pretend it was never said in the first place.

Alec just rolls his eyes in response, shaking his head in amusement. He takes another sip of the horrid black coffee in his hands and then sets it back on the table, fiddling with the paper wrapped around it. He eyes Magnus for a moment, expression unreadable, and Magnus tries not to squirm under the heavy gaze of those beautiful blue eyes. It feels like they're looking so much deeper than just the surface, so much deeper than all the glitter and glamour. It's unnerving, to say the least.

Alec looks away suddenly, turning his gaze to the wide window stretching across the wall by the door, showing the street outside the small coffee shop. They sit like that for a while, basking in comfortable silence as they sip on their respective drinks and watch the people pass by through the window. Magnus doesn't know what Alec's seeing about them but, personally, Magnus is eyeing each individual's choice in fashion as they stroll down the street. One particular outfit has him cringing back in his seat, away from the horrid combination of pink and leopard print. The rat's nest that woman was wearing as hair didn't really help her much either.

Magnus counts fourteen people that pass by before the conversation between the two of them starts up again. He'd almost say it's comforting to know so few people even come to this street, let alone this shop. There's next to no chance of paparazzi showing up or crazy groups of fans with aptitudes for stalking. Magnus shivers just at the thought of it and quickly opens his mouth to say something to the man across from him to take his mind away from such horrid thoughts.

"So," he starts, "What is it you do?" Alec looks away from the window to give him a mildly confused look. "As in work. Where do you work?" Magnus clarifies with a warm, kind smile. Actually, scratch that. Magnus is _not _warm, nor is he even remotely kind. Therefore, it's simply a normal smile or perhaps even a smirk. He's not being nice to Alec; he's not nice to anyone.

"I'm a professional athlete. I play soccer," Alec replies with a smile much like Magnus' own. Or not, because Magnus hadn't smiled. At all. It was a smirk. Definitely a crude, awful, arrogant smirk.

Still, he barely even registers Alec's expression, too preoccupied with spitting his drink back into the cup. Alec, an athlete? It does make sense, when he thinks about it, but it's still no less shocking. Alec does have the build and he had been playing football in the park when they'd met, though Magnus isn't surprised in the least that that's not the sport he plays professionally. He tries to pretend like the fact that Alec is actually a _professional athlete _doesn't make him about a hundred times even more attractive than before. He also vaguely notes that that might possibly be what'd he'd always imagined his dream guy to do, but he ignores that thought as best he can. Which is virtually not at all.

"And you?" Alec asks with an expectant look, snapping Magnus out of his thoughts and right into the realization that he'd probably been sitting there staring at Alec without a word for the past five minutes.

He clears his throat and wipes away a stray drop of the caramel beverage from his chin, pushing the still-steaming cup away from him ever so slightly. "I'm a musician," he replies with as much composure as he can muster. He tries to ignore how raspy his voice sounds.

If he'd been expecting Alec to realize _exactly _who he is then, Magnus is sorely disappointed. Alec raises an eyebrow as if he hadn't really been expecting that but is none the less not surprised, much like Magnus' own reaction to Alec's career choice. He'd probably assumed Magnus was in the fashion industry somewhere, which had originally been his desired career track before he'd slammed into the music charts and gotten stuck right at the very top of them. He can't say he regrets choosing music in the end, he _is _happy with the life he has right now, it just hadn't been his first choice. In fact, Magnus still finds himself wanting to be a part of the fashion world on occasion.

"That's cool," Alec offers with the air of someone who doesn't actually know what to say because they have no knowledge whatsoever on the current subject. Magnus had been expecting that though, based on the fact that Alec still doesn't seem to have a single clue who he is.

"Very," Magnus replies with a grin, watching Alec's face intently as he raises his drink and takes another sip of it, thankfully not spitting this one back out. He tries not to smirk too victoriously when he notes that Alec's eyes track the moment of his throat as he swallows before Magnus' companion quickly turns away.

Magnus is almost certain he has a chance here now, boyfriend or no boyfriend.

* * *

_**And there you have it! Dialogue is not my forte, but I'm seriously hoping that isn't obvious. I highly doubt the next chapter will take as long as this one did! Follow, favourite and review :)**_


	4. Dying To Live Again

**_Another update! I've been struggling a bit with this next AWF chapter, so that'll be up either later today or early tomorrow. Anyways, I'm actually kind of really proud of myself for the dialogue in this chapter because, like I said before, it's my weakest point :( But I'm happy with the dialogue in this chapter so yay! I hope you like it too :)_**

**_Reviews are love, leave me some?_**

* * *

_Chapter Three - Dying To Live Again_

* * *

"Where's Sebastian?" Isabelle asks, shoving past Alec and into his apartment the moment he swings the door open. He gives her a look as she glides past the kitchen and into the living room beyond, studiously ignoring his attempts to glare her an apology out of her. Or maybe just some kind of greeting. At all.

"Well, hello to you too," Alec mutters to himself, throwing the door shut and moving through the open archway past the kitchen to where the living room is. His sister has made herself at home already, strewn over the couch with her sock clad feet placed purposefully on top of a great mound of Alec's things sitting on the coffee table. She gives him a defiant look as he crosses the room to sit in the armchair across from her. He responds with a scowl, folding his arms in front of his chest like a petulant child, to which she rolls her eyes.

"Well?" she prompts and, at his blank look of confusion, adds: "Where's little loverboy off to now?"

"He's working late," Alec replies, unfolding his arms from his chest to rest them in his lap. "His boss has been running them all into the ground lately, it seems. He's been working overtime for more than two months straight now," he offers, sighing at the fact that he's barely seen his boyfriend much at all during that time. He notices his sister frowning from the corner of his eye and wonders if she'd been thinking the same. She'd always gotten along so well with Sebastian, had even taken to meeting with him for lunch nearly twice a week. He doubts they've had many lunch dates recently.

"I don't understand why he doesn't just quit," Isabelle says with a sigh. "He hates working there and _clearly _the company's run by an inconsiderate maniac with insane expectations of human beings. Why doesn't —"

"Mortmain," Alec corrects.

"—just hire more employees?" she finishes, shooting him a look that says she really doesn't care what Sebastian's boss's name is and most certainly does not appreciate being interrupted mid sentence. Alec shrugs at her, ignoring the look completely just like he always does.

"He probably can't afford any more."

"He's _rich_, Alec. Like, one of the richest guys in New York, and that's not going to change any time soon. Jesus, Alec. Where the hell have you been the past, oh I don't know, _years_?"

"I just really don't give a shit about that kind of thing," Alec responds, narrowing his eyes at his sister.

"You'd think that you would, given how famous you are yourself," she quips, bringing her hands up to examine her nails. The ruby embedded in her engagement ring flashes as it hits the light and Alec finds himself holding back a full blown grin at the sight of it. It's just another reminder of how far they've come, of how much they've both matured. A reminder of how happy they are, and how their lives have come together in the twenty some odd years they've each been alive.

"I don't play for fame, Iz," Alec replies, sighing and leaning back in his chair. It's a conversation they've had so many times before, complete with endless whining over how he _should _be taking advantage of his fame, how he _should _be going out to all the V.I.P parties around and sleeping with anything that so much as twitches, or so she makes it sound. Ah yes, his sister truly does have a way with words.

"What other reason is there to play?" Isabelle taunts, mouth curling up at the corner. She knows he hates this discussion, hates how he can never explain to her what soccer is to him. She loves to watch him struggle to do just that, and always ends up with a triumphant look on her face when he eventually throws his hands high into the air and gives up. Alec loves his sister, but she can be a cruel little witch sometimes.

"Because I like it?" he says, accidently turning the statement into a question at the end. Isabelle smirks, stretching her hands out further in front of her to examine her dark blue nails from a different angle. She's about to say something more to him, probably a thinly veiled insult full of sisterly maliciousness, when the sound of the apartment door opening echoes through the hall to them.

She's off the couch and out of the living room before Alec even thinks to stand up, his aching joints from his scrimmage with the team the other day protesting as he lifts himself out of the armchair. By the time he's made it to the door, his sister has already moved past the excited throwing of her arms around her latest victim— a gesture she claims to be a hug — and has now reached the point in her customary greeting where she jabbers non-stop about god knows what while the poor boy in front of her attempts to remove his coat and shoes without getting hit by her flailing hands. She calls it being expressive and outgoing; Alec calls it being insane and very likely to poke someone's eye out at any given moment.

Sebastian nods along to whatever she's going off about now, shooting Alec a gentle smile over her shoulder when he reaches them. It wavers just short of reaching his eyes and Alec gives his boyfriend a sympathetic look, knowing he must be exhausted from all the extra work being piled on him lately. And if Sebastian turns his gaze away from Alec and onto his sister a little too quickly at that, Alec doesn't notice.

"Anyways, more importantly, where on _earth_ have you been for the past two months?" Isabelle finishes, pinning the fair-haired boy by the door with accusing eyes.

"I told you like five times already, Iz. His boss has been forcing him to work overtime," Alec cuts in, saving his boyfriend from his sister's oncoming interrogation. Usually, this would be the time where Sebastian would shoot him a grateful look over his sister's shoulder and Alec would smile back sweetly with a shake of his head at his sister's antics. But that's not what happens this time; instead, Sebastian tenses and slides his gaze to the wall furthest from Alec. Alec frowns at him, confused and concerned, but doesn't say anything.

Thankfully, his sister is too caught up in informing Sebastian of every single detail on how she came to be engaged to a soon-to-be-famous rockstar to notice the odd behaviour passing between the two boys. And Alec just shakes his head at his sister, smiling at how happy she is, and tells himself that it's nothing that concerns him. Sebastian is probably just stressed.

* * *

Magnus stares silently down at the paper he's holding so carefully you'd almost think it was a newborn child. His eyes are wide with wonder as they focus on the words scrawled beautifully across the page, written in a handwriting no less gorgeous than it's maker. Who is by far the most gorgeous person in the universe. Well, except maybe the blue-eyed boy who'd prompted Magnus' sudden urge to write a song.

He can't quite say what came over him; he'd merely been reclining peacefully in an obnoxiously bright chaise longue, staring at his perfect black nails that automatically made him think of blue eyes as well. And then, as his mind had drifted further into the depths of Alec-land, as he liked to call it, he'd been suddenly overcome with an unbearable itch. An itch to write a song, and a good one at that.

So, for the first time in months, he'd picked up a pen, grabbed a blank sheet of paper, and let the notes flow easily from his mind and onto the page. By the time he'd finished writing the first draft of the verse, it had been clear as day to him who the cause of such a miracle was.

And now, sitting there staring at the sketched notes of both an intro and a verse, as well as a few scribbled possibilities for lyrics on the side, Magnus can't help but be completely star struck at the incredible effect one measly little boy among thousands of others has had on him. Of course, the song isn't about Alec, not at all, but Magnus knows he wouldn't have anything written of it if it weren't for him.

Maybe he hadn't needed to boot his sex life back up again to be able write after all, considering he hasn't even managed to swipe a kiss from Alec yet, but had just required something new in his life. Someone new. Maybe he just needed a change of pace in his otherwise repetitive, scheduled nightmare of a life.

Magnus throws himself hastily out of the chair and all but sprints out of his study, taking the steps to the wide open space below nearly three at a time. He launches himself over the side of the railing once he deems himself close enough to the floor to avoid breaking one of his beautifully shaped bones and races around the side of the staircase to the open area he calls his living room, paper still clutched firmly in his hand. Eyes locking immediately on the piano tucked into the corner, he finds a burst of joy in seeing it bathed in the sunlight that filters through the giant floor to ceiling window that takes up most of that wall. In fact, Magnus' apartment is probably made up more of windows than it is of walls.

Yanking the bench back from the piano and careening down onto it, Magnus quickly smooths the now crumpled piece of paper out and sets it on the instrument, hands already fluttering over the beautiful ivory keys in anticipation. Still, it's with a hesitant touch that he presses down on the first note scrawled onto the page, and the next, steadily growing more and more comfortable as his hands fly over the keys. There's a rush in his body as the notes drift from the piano, rising to meet each other and twine together to form something new, something different. He doesn't have the lyrics down yet, nothing concrete, so he just hums along under his breath or sings gibberish like he usually does to warm himself up before a show.

By the time his fingers come flying to a stop, cut off abruptly by the blank stretch of nothing across the rest of the page, Magnus is grinning from ear to ear and feeling like he's not just on top of the world, but the whole entire universe. Besides, what's the world compared to Magnus Bane? Hardly anything at all, especially after those last few bars of the song.

Unfortunately, he can say for sure that he won't be able to write the rest of it right now. He feels like he doesn't have the pieces he needs to fit together to make the music, to put the feeling it brings him into words. He feels like he's missing something, something he's always _been _missing but just hadn't known he needed before. Or perhaps he simply hadn't needed it until now. Either way, Magnus is determined to finish the song, lyrics and all.

So he fishes his ridiculously coloured cell phone out of his pocket and punches in the number he finds he's been using more and more in the past month; Alec's.

* * *

Alec is in the process of rummaging through the fridge for the billionth time in the last hour to find something to eat when his phone goes off, the loud echoes of a whistle sounding from his back pocket. He slams the fridge shut, knowing the piece of crap won't close otherwise, and reaches for the annoying device. Thinking it's either someone from the team or Magnus, he hesitantly brings it into his line of sight, letting out a breath of relief when he sees it's the latter. He _really _doesn't want to deal with the team trying to convince him to go out to another party with them, like they do nearly every night.

"Hey," he greets, swiping the green answer button and bringing the phone up to his ear.

"Hello, darling," comes the smooth reply in a silky voice full of flirtatiousness that has Alec rolling his eyes.

"How many times do I have to tell you I have a boyfriend before it sinks in?" he asks jokingly, padding out of the kitchen and down the small hallway to the master bedroom. Sometimes Alec suddenly becomes acutely aware of exactly how tiny his apartment is.

"As many times as it takes before that changes." Alec can practically hear a wink in that sentence. A wink full of glittery eyeshadow and sparkly eyeliner, most likely. Probably a fair bit of mascara as well.

"That's not going to happen, Mags," he says, swinging the door open and stepping inside, flicking the light switch on as he goes. He'd almost find it funny how accustomed he's grown to Magnus in the past month that they've been hanging out. Everything's just been so simple and easy between them, even with all of Magnus' constant flirting. Alec's beginning to think Magnus can't say anything and not have it be flirtatious in some way.

"A guy can dream," Magnus replies teasingly, most likely smirking to himself in that infuriatingly attractive way he always does.

"By all means, dream away. No need to bring those delusions into real life, though," Alec teases back, grinning despite the fact that his newfound friend won't be able to see it. Magnus can probably hear it in his voice, though; Alec does nothing to hide it.

"I'm going to ignore your obvious stabs at my sanity— which is perfectly intact, thank you very much —and move on to the original purpose of this wonderful phone call."

"Which is?" Alec asks, crossing the room to reach the closet. Keeping the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he throws it open and peers into the depths of it, looking for one single article of clothing in particular.

"To invite you out to lunch tomorrow, of course," Magnus responds smoothly.

"Miss me already? And to think, it's only been five days since that _wonderful _movie we went to see," Alec teases, adding emphasis to his description of the epic failure someone decided to call a film that they'd seen a few days ago.

"Yes, I know. And yet I've already started to suffer from separation anxiety, which means I simply _must _see you as soon as possible." Alec rolls his eyes at that, reaching into the closet to weed through the hanging pieces of clothing. Most of it is Sebastian's; Alec tends to just wear the same few things over and over again.

"What if I'm busy tomorrow?"

"You're not."

"And how would you know?"

"You're never busy," Magnus notes before thinking better of that statement and adding: "Except when you are. Which is rarely. Unless your sister is in town. Which she's not anymore."

"Uh huh, but how do you know I haven't made plans with someone else? I _do _have something of a social life, you know."

"I know, and it comprises of me and your sister."

"It does not. I'll have you know that there's an entire soccer team with their numbers programmed into my phone."

"Having their numbers in your phone and getting all sweaty together doesn't actually mean you hang out, or that they're a part of your social life." Magnus pauses, seeming to take into account how he'd worded that sentence. "That came out wrong," he says decidedly.

"A bit, yeah," Alec replies, triumphantly emerging from the closet with the shirt he'd been looking for. He nearly drops his phone in the process, but thankfully manages to keep the annoying device pressed against his ear.

"Anyways, since we've now established that you're not busy tomorrow, or ever—"

"Hey," Alec protests.

"—where would you like to meet?" Magnus finishes, completely ignoring Alec's interjection.

Glaring at the shirt in his hand that he imagines to be Magnus, Alec sighs before replying, "How about Bluebird's? Do you know it?"

"Do I _know _it? What, do you think I live under a rock?"

"A very sparkly rock, actually."

"It's called glitter, darling. Get with the program."

"Fine, a very _glittery _rock."

"Much better. Now, I should be off for lunch around one, so what do you say we meet at about two?" Alec nods before he remembers that Magnus can't see him, at which point he has to fight down the urge to facepalm himself. If he did that, he'd drop the phone.

"Two sounds good. Though, knowing you, it'll end up being three."

"It's not my fault there's traffic!"

"It's your fault you don't just leave earlier. Or set the date for later."

"Date? So they are dates! Ha, and here you keep telling me they're not."

"They're not _date _dates, but they're— Ugh, nevermind. I give up."

"I win!" Magnus declares happily, most likely doing his little happy dance at that.

"Yes, Magnus. You win. Now, Bluebird's at two, right?" Alec confirms impatiently, throwing the shirt in his hand onto the bed. It's going to need ironing before his interview later tomorrow. An interview he would much rather just avoid. God, Alec hates the press and all their stupid news shows and things. Why can't they all just leave him alone and not keep requesting interviews? And why can't his manager just turn them all down? Like, every single one of them. Not just the majority, like she does now.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I know you wouldn't," Alec says, sighing. There's the sound of the dial tone buzzing in his ear shortly afterwards, but Alec doesn't move the phone away. Instead, he stares down at the shirt on the bed that reminds him of the colour of Magnus' eyes and tries to ignore the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I wouldn't either," he whispers to the empty air around him.

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_**Follow, favourite and review 3**_


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